


Persephone

by iiii



Series: Incidents in Transit [13]
Category: Firefly, Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiii/pseuds/iiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, Dean, you keep pointing that gun at me, and somehow you never get around to shooting me. I'm starting to doubt your sincerity."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persephone

"Hello, boys."

Dean stopped in the middle of the room and leveled the Colt at the man in the bowler hat.

The hired guns pointed weapons at Dean. Sam reached for the knife at his belt and began sidling around to the right. Mal put his hand on his own gun and started backing toward the exit, Zoe and Jayne behind him. They found the doorway occupied by armed henchmen, and stopped, awaiting events. Dean and his target kept their eyes locked on each other.

"Crowley. How's Hell treating you? Still king?"

"Life is a glorious cycle of song. All that's missing is you two. You don't call, you don't write."

"Been kind of tied up."

"You know, Dean, you keep pointing that gun at me, and somehow you never get around to shooting me. I'm starting to doubt your sincerity."

"You folks would seem to know each other," Mal observed.

"Yes, Captain. We've met."

"What do you want?" asked Dean.

"Your brother wants to talk to you."

"My brother is standing behind you with a scary knife."

"No, you moron, the other one. The one who went to your doom? The one Gargantua, here, left behind, all alone. Well, not quite alone. Remember him? He wants to chat."

Dean lowered the gun a fraction. "And you're running errands for him. Right."

"You know better than that."

"What does he want to talk about?" asked Dean.

"Trading places, I believe. But don't take my word on it. Go talk to him."

"How?"

"How do I know how you Winchesters talk to each other? Figure it out."

"If we could figure it out, we'd have done it. We tried everything we could think of."

"Not everything."

Dean looked puzzled, then said, "Dude. We are not doing a deal with the goddamn Fairies just because you yank our chain. It's been real. Let's not do it again." Dean raised the Colt.

"Now, now. You've still got the Horsemen's rings, right? Go talk to Death."

"Seriously? No. He's sick of my face. I go back to him, he'll stop dicking around with merely dead and make me really most sincerely dead."

"Not to mention, if Death was willing to help us spring Adam, there'd be no need for rings," Sam said.

"Good point," Dean said. "And you really don't want us to open the cage and let everyone out. It'd be bad for your health. So why do you want us chasing Death's ring?"

"That would be telling."

"I don't think he does want Death's ring," Sam said. "Well, I'm sure he wants it, but I think what he's really after is the other rings. And the rest of our gear."

"You may be right, Sam. We do have all those wonderful toys."

"And if we go get ourselves killed, Crowley here can scoop the pot."

"Yeah, let's not do that. Hey, how'd you find us, anyway?"

"That really _would_ be telling. Now. If you boys don't want to play, it's time for you to run along. Get off my rock."

Mal cleared his throat.

"Ah, yes, Captain Reynolds. I can't pay you for delivery when you've already opened the package and rifled through the contents, now can I?" Mal started to protest. Crowley held up a quelling hand. "I'll pay retail for the coffee, though."

"How did you know...?"

Crowley hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "Smelled it on Sam, here." He leaned forward and sniffed. "Is that fresh booze wafting from Dean, or the remnants of an old bender? I'll pay top dollar for good stuff. Can't seem to find decent liquor these days."

"Dude, you are not selling him my Jack Daniel's."

"Jack's a bit workmanlike for my taste, but it'll do. A case?"

"That would be _my_ Jack Daniel's," said Mal. "Jayne, make sure our friends don't get lost on their way back to the ship. Badger and I need to dicker."

Mal glared at Sam. Sam looked questioningly at Dean. Dean raised his eyebrows at Crowley, who smiled reassuringly. Dean sighed and jerked his head toward the door. Sam tucked away the scary knife as he rounded Crowley's desk and made for the exit. As Sam passed him, Dean began backing toward the door himself. Mal, Zoe and the henchmen cleared the doorway and let the Winchesters pass. Jayne followed.

"Ta, boys."

"Whatever," Dean muttered, and holstered the Colt. 

Mal advanced on Crowley with a rapacious smile.


End file.
